The Marriage Bed: An Ideal Marriage? / The Marriage Campaign / The Bridal Bed. HELEN BIANCHIN

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      ‘Which men are content to allow, in the knowledge that said social occasions provide equal opportunity for proposing or cementing a business deal.’

      He spared her a thoughtful glance. ‘Do I detect a note of cynicism?’

      ‘Perhaps.’

      ‘Benedict adores you.’

      She could accept respect and affection, but wasn’t adore a little over the top? Fortunately with James there was no need to perpetuate the myth. ‘He’s very good to me.’

      ‘I would never have sanctioned the marriage if I hadn’t been convinced that he would take care of you.’

      The music wound down for a break between numbers, and Gabbi preceded her father to their table.

      Annaliese had taken an empty seat next to Benedict, Monique was conversing with Dominic and Aaron was nowhere in sight. Musical chairs, Gabbi decided with a touch of black humour as she slid into a vacant one.

      Guests were slowly beginning to dissipate. In half an hour the bar would close and the DJ would shut down for the night Any time soon they could begin drifting towards the foyer, take the lift to the main entrance and have the doorman summon their car.

      Benedict lifted his head at that moment and cast her a searching glance, raised one eyebrow a fraction, then smoothly extricated himself from Annaliese’s clutches. Literally, as the scarlet-tipped fingers of one hand trailed a persuasive path down the fabric sheathing his forearm, followed by a coy smile and an upward sweep of mascaraed eyelashes in a deliberate attempt at flirtation.

      Gabbi tried to assure herself that it didn’t matter. But it did.

      She smiled graciously all the way to the main entrance, completed the air-kiss routine with Monique and Annaliese, brushed lips over her father’s cheek, bade Dominic and Aaron goodnight, then slipped into the passenger seat of the Bentley.

      Benedict eased the car towards the busy main street, paused until he gained clear passage into the flow of traffic then quickly increased speed.

      Gabbi leaned her head back and focused her attention on the view of the city. Bright flashing neon signs and illuminated shop windows soon gave way to inner-city suburban streets and shuttered windows, some dark, others showing a glimmer of muted electricity. And, as they began to ascend the New South Head road, they gained a view of the harbour, its waters darkened by night and tipped with ribbons of reflected light.

      ‘You’re very quiet.’

      She turned her head and examined Benedict’s shadowed profile. ‘I was enjoying the peaceful silence after several hours of music and noisy chatter.’ It was true, but she doubted he was fooled by her explanation. ‘If there’s something you want to discuss...’ She trailed off, and gave a slight shrug.

      ‘Annaliese.’

      No doubt about it, he aimed straight for the main target. But two could play at that game.

      The Bentley turned into their street, slowed as they reached the electronically controlled gates guarding their property, swept along the curved driveway and came to a halt inside the garage.

      Gabbi released the seat belt, unfastened the door-clasp and slid out of the car, aware that Benedict was mirroring her actions. He attended to the house alarm and followed her indoors, keyed in the re-set code then drew her into the lounge.

      ‘Would you like a drink?’

      She looked at him carefully, and chose a light-hearted response. ‘Champagne.’

      He crossed to the bar, removed a bottle from the fridge, opened it, filled two flutes then retraced his steps.

      Gabbi took one flute and raised it in a silent salute, then sipped the contents. ‘What particular aspect of my stepsister’s character do you want to discuss?’

      She could read nothing in his expression, and she had no idea whether he intended to damn her with faint praise or offer a compliment on her remarkable restraint.

      ‘Annaliese’s determination to cause trouble.’

      Gabbi allowed her eyes to widen measurably, and she placed a hand over her heart. ‘Oh, my goodness. I hadn’t noticed.’

      ‘Don’t be facetious.’

      ‘It’s obvious?’

      ‘Stop it, Gabbi,’ Benedict warned.

      ‘Why? I’m on a roll.’

      ‘Quit while you’re ahead.’

      ‘OK. Pick a scenario. Annaliese wants you, you want her. Annaliese wants you, you don’t want her.’

      ‘The latter.’

      She hadn’t realised she’d been holding her breath, and she released it slowly. ‘Well, now, that’s a relief. I can kiss goodbye visions of throwing out monogrammed towels, ruining your hand-stitched shoes and cutting up every one of your suits.’ She gave him a hard smile that didn’t quite match the vulnerability apparent in her eyes. ‘I had intentions of being quite vicious if you decided on divorce.’

      Humour gleamed in those dark eyes, and a deep chuckle emerged from his throat.

      ‘It’s not funny.’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Then don’t laugh. I was serious.’

      Benedict took a long swallow of champagne and placed his flute down on a nearby pedestal. ‘Why in hell would I consider divorcing a sassy young woman who delights in challenging me on every level in favour of someone like Annaliese?’ He removed her champagne flute and lowered it to join his own. Then he pulled her into his arms.

      Gabbi didn’t have a chance to answer before his mouth closed over hers, and she drank in the taste of him mingled with the sweet tang of vintage French champagne, generously giving everything he asked, more than he demanded, until mutual need spiralled to the edge of their control.

      ‘I could take you here, now,’ Benedict groaned huskily as his lips grazed a path down her throat, and she arched her head to allow him easy access to the sensitive hollow at its base, the swell of her breasts as he trailed lower.

      A soft laugh choked in her throat as he freed one tender globe and took a liberty with its peak. Then she cried out as he lifted her over one shoulder and began striding from the room.

      ‘Caveman tactics,’ she accused as he ascended the stairs.

      He gained the upper floor, then headed for the main suite. When he reached it, he released her to stand within the circle of his arms.

      ‘Want to undress me?’

      Her eyes sparkled with wicked humour. ‘Might be quicker if you did it yourself.’

      ‘That bad, huh?’

      ‘Yes,’ she said with honest simplicity, her own fingers as busy СКАЧАТЬ